He ran his hand over his mouth, and his eyes swept over the room, possibly to ensure they would continuenot to be disturbed or overheard. Following his gaze, she thought he lingered on Jane and Mr Bingley. She wondered whether he saw the same thing she did: a couple who were not afraid to show the world that they were in love. Elizabeth did not care who knew of her feelings for Mr Darcy—and everyone present was aware of their situation—but she still felt a need to be more secretive about it than Jane and Mr Bingley were, and Mr Darcy was naturally reticent. In thinking of the matter, Elizabeth had decided her reluctance to display her feelings was because she had spent a greater part of their acquaintance dreading hearing people discuss the two of them—both when she was sure she would hate him forever, then as she began to like him more and more.
Turning to her once again, Mr Darcy said, “Have you ever considered how long two people should know each other, how long they should be friends, before they agree to marry? Bramwell and Rebecca have known each other since she was born, yet I do not believe they spent much time with each other until last Easter, as I mentioned. Nine months later, he still has not proposed. Bingley and your sister have liked each other since the day they met, and I imagine he will propose any day. You and I…”
She offered him a smile meant to show that she understood while also encouraging him not to worry about the past. How far she succeeded, she did not know. “You and I met the same night. We were not introduced then, but I still consider it the day we met. As to your question, I think it depends on the people involved, and sometimes, when you know that the other person is the right one for you…youknow.”
He chuckled. “My aunt said something similar to me recently.”
“Is she always so wise?”
He smiled. “She likes you very much, so yes. She told me while we were waiting for you to arrive tonight.”
“I like her too,” Elizabeth said warmly. “I like all your relations, and they have been so welcoming to me, Jane, and my aunt and uncle.”
“You speak too soon. You have not met Lady Catherine or my cousin Anne yet. I suppose Anne is insipid, but there is no real harm in her. My aunt, however, is—I hesitate to use this word anywhere within your hearing—intolerable.”
She laughed. “I would find it impossible to go through life without using the words tolerable and intolerable, so I must demand you not act as though there is something evil about them. As to Lady Catherine, I own I am curious.”
“I pray a meeting between you will be delayed as long as possible. You will understand why.”
During the days leading up to the Twelfth Night ball, Elizabeth’s anticipation became almost unbearable—as did her nerves, though she would never admit the last. It would be a night she remembered for the rest of her life, regardless of whether she ended it an engaged woman, as she thought she might. Oddly, she reflected, she had also expected the Netherfield ball would be a memorable occasion, known in her heart it would be, and she had been correct. How often would she date significant moments in her relationship with Mr Darcy to occasions involving dancing? She sensed he was impatient topropose, and it would be terribly romantic if he did it that night, more so than receiving his offer in the Gardiners’ parlour. To be sure, she would be overjoyed no matter where they were, but she was so happy—more so than she knew she could be—and when he opened his heart to her fully and she could finally tell him how much she loved him, she thought she might burst with delight. More likely, she would cry and laugh at once.In which case, the parlour might be better. I would not want to cause a spectacle, as I surely would by crying and laughing and throwing myself into his arms in a public setting!
The Bingleys’ ball had been an elegant affair, as had been the few she had attended when Netherfield’s owners were in residence, but a ball hosted by an earl and countess would be an entirely different matter. Despite considering herself full of courage, she was nervous. There was no reason for her anxiety; she would be with people she knew, and she had never found it difficult to be amongst crowds. No matter how she tried to talk herself out of it, there was a growing sense thatsomethingwould go awry that she could not banish despite all her day-dreams of being with Mr Darcy.
The evening began well enough, and she laughed at how silly she had been to worry. Mr Darcy was exceptionally handsome in his evening attire. His blue waistcoat contained thin strands of silver that sparkled in the candlelight, and she was proud to be by his side and for people to see that he favoured her above other ladies. She felt beautiful and desirable, and it had little to do with her gown—which was the loveliest she had everworn—or the jewels her aunt had lent her. She danced the first set with Mr Darcy, and her subsequent partners were Mr Bingley, Colonel Fitzwilliam, and Viscount Bramwell.
That was when the trouble began.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
There was not a time in his life when Darcy had been happier, and it was all due to Elizabeth. She was everything—morethan he had ever expected to find in a lady. He could almost sense his physiology being remade when he was near her, a shift from dour to content, half empty to full and complete. One reason he knew she was the perfect lady for him was the way his feelings for her had grown during their brief separation. Speaking of her to his family had emphasised how much he wanted her with him always, and when he saw her again in Hertfordshire… Each time he thought of it, he recalled exactly what she had looked like in a deep green gown that brought out the richness of her hair and eyes, a wide welcoming smile on her face when she regarded him. The kind, warm manner of her greeting to Georgiana had made him love her even more. The oddest aspect of his present situation was that he knew she loved him too. How could he understand what was in her heart when they had not spoken openly of it? Nevertheless, he did, and he considered it another sign that they were meant to spend their lives together.
Celebrating Christmas in Hertfordshire had been lively and amusing. Elizabeth and her family had made him, Georgiana, and Bingley feel as though they belonged, and the connexions amongst them had become stronger—a joining of their families into a new entity.
Then they had come to town, and here, too, everything was as near to perfect as anyone had a right to expect. It was incredible to him that just a few months prior, his life had seemed dark and dreary because of Ramsgate and its repercussions. He had allowed the least attractive parts of his character—his arrogance and disdain for others—to harden. Darcy thanked God that he had gone to Netherfield and met Elizabeth, who had encouraged him to be a better man. Bingley and Mr Bennet had also played roles, but it wasshewho had been his main reason for improving himself. How soon after meeting her had he learnt to want her good opinion? He would never be certain, but he believed it was a combination of her refusal to accept his insincere apology in the churchyard and seeing her with Budge the first time.
Darcy reflected on all this at his aunt’s ball as he watched Elizabeth, who shone like the brightest star. How he wished he could spend every second of it with her! But they were both expected to dance with others. Yet, he did his best to keep Elizabeth in view at all times; he could not do otherwise. Astonishingly, he found he did not care that people were talking of them,speculating about their connexion, even asking him who she was. Six months ago, he would have snarled at anyone who had made so much as an innocuous enquiry about his life, but what did it matter when he was so wonderfully happy?
During an interval in the dancing, Elizabeth and he were standing together, chatting about the evening and the people she had met, contentedly observing the hordes about them. And then a piercing voice rent the air, cracking like a thunderbolt.
“Darcy, what do you think you are doing? Step away from that-thatgirlat once!”
Slowly turning to face the person who had spoken, Darcy stared at his aunt Lady Catherine de Bourgh. Beside her stood her daughter, Anne. Out of habit, he opened his mouth to greet them, but she continued, all but screeching at him. Certainly, she spoke loudly enough for half the room—or more—to hear.
“How dare you flirt with her! Who is she? Has my sister-in-law gone mad to permit such persons to attend her ball? Your mother would be ashamed to see you behaving in this manner.”
“I-I did not knowyouwould be here, Lady Catherine,” he said. His shock at seeing her was receding, and as it did, fury at her words grew. Beyond his aunt and cousin, he saw Lord and Lady Romsley approaching, followed by Bramwell, Rebecca, and Fitzwilliam. Their progress was slow as they had to push through the murmuring crowd that was watching, stunned or delighted or both by the spectacle. The Gardiners, Bingley,and Miss Bennet stood to the side, appearing uncertain.
Lady Catherine announced, “I have come to insist you do your duty and propose to Anne. It is time for us to see to the marriage contract and set a date. What do I find instead? You flirting with some chit I do not recognise, and as soon as I entered the room, I heard people speaking of you being on the point of marriage to another girl. How could you behave in such a scandalous fashion? Everyone knows you are engaged tomy daughter! You have humiliated me—and Anne—and it will take a great deal for you to make it up to us. You can begin by sendingheraway and apologising.”
She used her walking stick to point at Elizabeth, and Darcy was tempted to grab it, pull it from her hand, and throw it away. The possibility of using it to prod her to leave was also appealing. Unconsciously, he held out a hand to his side and felt Elizabeth grasp it. It gave him strength to withstand whatever his aunt did next. Vaguely, he heard the earl and countess protesting about Lady Catherine’s presence and behaviour, but he would not leave them to fight this battle for him.
“First, I demand you accord Miss Elizabeth Bennet the respect she deserves as a gentleman’s daughter and my dear friend. Second, the only one of us who needs to apologise presently is you—to Miss Elizabeth, your sister and brother, everyone here, and me. If you wish me to accept, it had best be heartfelt. I shall know the difference. Third and finally, I am not engaged to Anne, I have never wanted to be, and I never had any intentionof proposing to her, as I have told you many times over the last five years.”
“I do not want to marry him either,” Anne surprised him by saying. His cousin remained silent more often than not, probably because her mother hardly ever stopped talking. “We never have anything to say to each other, I do not want to remove to Derbyshire or anywhere else, he does not want to marry me, and if you force us to, we would be miserable.”
“But you would be mistress of Pemberley, and that would make up for everything else. You will obey me!” Lady Catherine told her daughter sternly. Regarding Darcy, she said, “As will you.”
Darcy stared at her for a moment, then turned to Elizabeth and said, “I promise I shall make you a proper proposal when we are alone. For now…Miss Elizabeth, you must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you. Will you consent to be my wife?”
